When I was young, I sniffed and sneered at the idea of plastic surgery. Now that I’ve reached what is politely called “a certain age,” I’m not so sure. At 69, my jowls have headed south, and my neck waddle rivals a turkey. As a result, I’ve become plastic surgery curious. Very curious. Read more
Richard Nixon and I sadly have something in common. Jowls. I’ve tried to ignore the problem, but jowls and jawlines are in the news. So, what can I do?
Yes, regrettably, I – the anti-plastic surgery woman – am once again day-dreaming about plastic surgery. Read more
My dear Middle-aged Muddlers, last week as you recall, I “documented” my struggle to combat the shame of a droopy mouth and thin lips.
In my 20s, 30s, and 40s, I used excessive amounts of lip liner, lipstick and lip gloss to compensate. I also awkwardly smiled a lot to mask the droop.
In my 50s, I “graduated” to injectable fillers. They were costly. They hurt, but they helped.
Then one day my dermatologist told me that fillers were no longer the solution. Age, genes, and gravity were winning. If I wanted a perky pout, I needed stronger medicine. I needed plastic surgery.
Specifically, I needed a corner lip lift, a tricky procedure involving incisions on each side of the mouth with no place to hide the scars. Done poorly, the procedure leaves the patient resembling Batman’s nemesis, The Joker. Having seen pictures of botched procedures, I assure you, that is no joke.
My dermatologist referred me to a plastic surgeon, one of the “pioneers” of the corner lip lift procedure. I made an appointment, canceled it and called to re-schedule. I repeated this cycle of hope and fear three more times before I ultimately met the doctor. It was time to meet my re-maker. Read more
The amazing screenwriter, journalist, and author Nora Ephron hated her sagging neck.
I hate my lips.
Nora lamented the pitfalls of maturing – aka aging –in her best-selling book, I Feel Bad About My Neck: And Other Thoughts on Being a Woman. As the title suggests, she especially bemoaned her saggy, baggy neckline and her middle-aged need to camouflage the offending body part with scarves.
Well, my nemesis is my lips. However, unlike Nora, my problem isn’t solely the result of aging. It’s a lifelong curse. And unlike Nora’s scarf solution, I cannot cloak my offending feature. For decades, I have suffered in silence, but no more. Today I share my shame. Read more